How crudely we are set upon by the schemes of musicians, who begin in the first instance on a seeking quest, but ultimately terminate with sensory pollution driven by the mistaken need for success. They, who thought their true goal was truth, operated as charlatans until they broke through the industry door to reveal the actual face of their intent. The altered verse of Barrett Strong, “the money, you fuckers, we want your money”, rings through the echelons of Denmark Street, Sugar House Lane, and the Holborn Hexagon. And the other they duteously reply, with one caring hand for the musician and the other secretly pillaging. Turns out it's actually two for the money, one for the show.

For now, let us return to Base Camp Alpha, where visionary ideas are forged. Whether duplicitous or not, a musician's purpose is to make sense of the stimuli that invade and innervate his existence, the outpouring of which is expressed in melody, tone, etcetera. At this stage intentions are purest, maybe a little wonky, but pure nonetheless. Besides, what object does not possess a slight 'wonkiness' or wobble – atomic or cosmic.

Truth is sacrosanct, and forged by emotion is compelled to communicate to others in the mode of performance. If other truth seekers, the audience, can divine and comprehend the musician and his message, then popularity soon develops and a following is born. This can be seen in all juxta-arts, from the poet to the painter. The ascent has begun. High above, barely visible, is the vulture. He knows you are not dead yet, but this is a pernicious vulture who cannot wait, and will attempt to pick your bones while you still breathe.

He also carries a message: the message of profit. He will enable your original message, you original truth, but in return will bleed you dry. No musician ever really sold his soul to the devil; he sold it, blindly, to another of his kind, but not his type. It is not success, but the dissemination of knowledge, of truth, that drives a musician. The message of profit gradually distorts the objective and direction is altered.

Article Author: Paul Robinson

Paul Robinson (born 27 July 1977) is a British poet from Liverpool, England. Robinson, a former musician, is listed as a New Liverpool Poet.

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